


for a million summers | camren (au)

by blake0tyler



Category: Fifth Harmony (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drama & Romance, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10336670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blake0tyler/pseuds/blake0tyler
Summary: “The whole universe is at the edge of our breaths.”“It’s ready for us. It’s ready for us to begin.”//Camren | AU





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> So, I know that I should be working on 'right there in the details' and 'a sum of small things' and I AM, I promise, but this just wrote itself, and I couldn't resist posting it because I'm very, very excited about it. :) 
> 
> This is going to be a multi-chapter fic inspired by "The Last Five Years". For those of you who don't know the movie/musical, "The Last Five Years" narrates a relationship between two people by using opposing timelines. So, one of them tells the story from the beginning towards the end, and the other one tells the story from the end towards the beginning. That is the basic idea behind this fic :) It's a College AU with Lauren's narration going backwards in time and Camila's going forward in time. I hope this makes sense. Things will become clear once you start reading.
> 
> For the sake of clarity, I've decided to make them the same age, which means that in the middle point of the story - the point where their narrations overlap - they will both be twenty years old. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think! I love you all.
> 
> -Blake

**Lauren / 22**

She looks at you, tears getting stuck in her eyelashes for a moment, before they drop and fall down onto the white covers of your pillows; little, wet lines smudged with the blackness of her mascara.

“It’s ok—” she says. “I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s – Laur, I’m ok. I’m… Really.”

You nod slowly, not able to take your eyes off hers. She tries to give you a smile, right before abruptly shifting forward and pressing her body closer against you, closer than both of you can really handle at the moment. A heavy shiver runs down the length of your back that has nothing to do with the breeze coming through the open window of your bedroom. Your fingers tangle in her hair. Both of you pressing harder. Always closer. Always more. She runs her hand up and down the ridges of your spine and you arch forward; her naked body so soft and so warm and so… so—    

You swallow hard and she must have felt the bob of your throat against her forehead, because she leans back and looks at you again. She’s so close that you can see all the different specks of brown in her eyes, all the constellations in the summer freckles on the bridge of her nose, spreading to her cheekbones.

They make her look younger than she is.   

For a moment, she brushes the back of her hand over your cheekbone, knuckles against your jaw, her lips right on yours as she breathes out, “Fuck you.”

It tears right through you.

“Fuck you, Lauren,” she whispers again, voice all strangled. “Fuck you for doing this to me.”

You’re twenty-two years old and your fingers are on her back, stroking circles into her skin, like they’ve done so many times before. Her leg is between yours, the angles of your hips against each other’s treacherous to reality. She’s trembling against you – smile around her lips, but tears in her eyes and her voice laced with anger – and all of it cuts into your chest.

“Camz—”

Your voice breaks and she pushes her fingers harder against your jaw, digging them into your skin almost painfully. “You’re not going to cry, are you? I swear to God, Lauren, if you start crying right now, I’ll fucking—”

You pull her onto you so hard that she gasps. Her mouth finds yours, the kiss harsh and heavy, both of you tasting each other desperately. You want to sink yourself as deeply into her veins as you can. Set your body on fire with the heat inside her bones.

Camila bites down on your bottom lip – and you push her off of you again.

For a moment, her eyes flash, but then she leans forward again and kisses your neck, softer, slower. “Hey,” she whispers, the vibration of her voice hitting your skin. “It’s ok – we’re ok.”  

You’re shaking too. You hadn’t realized. There’s something about the way your breath is mingling with hers in the air between you that has got you breaking open.

“We’re ok,” Camila says again.

You can’t stop staring at her. You want to take in every single detail of her face; the arch of her eyebrows; the curve of her lips; the line of her jaw. You don’t want to talk anymore. Just look at her. It’s impossible, though. You’re breaking open, your heart is breaking open, and with it, the words work their way up your throat, falling off your lips, as you breathe out into the darkness of the room, “We loved each other, didn’t we?”

She doesn’t say anything.

You say, “We made a mess of it – but we – you… you loved me – right?”

The tears burn in her eyes. “I loved you. I do.”

Both tenses slice right through your skin.

“Camila…” you breathe out.

“Lauren,” she says.

You softly tug a strand of hair behind her ear as you whisper, “Just at the edge of our breaths.” She stares at you, recognition hitting hard. Your fingers fall still and your voice sounds rough when you add, “The whole universe is at the edge of our breaths.” 

Camila looks at you so intensely that it hurts. She looks at you, with her lips bitten red and her tears stuck in her eyelashes – little drops of light against the blackness – and you think: salt and water.

“It’s ready for us,” she whispers, through her tears, through the sting, through all of it.

It crashes over you with the force of a tsunami, dragging you right into its inevitable current, and you think: this is where it ends.

You think: once, all humans were the sea and nothing but the sea, and that is why emotions feel like waves.   


* * *

**Camila / 18**

She gives you a lipstick red smile, right before taking the hit and leaning forward to cup your face between her hands. For a startling moment your lips brush against each other’s, and then she parts them and blows the smoke right into your mouth.  

You have never felt more turned on in your entire life.

All your senses sharpen as your head falls back a little. You feel your eyes flutter closed, despite yourself, and when you open them again on your exhale, she’s staring at you, biting her bottom lip back, eyes so impossibly green, even in the dim street lights.

“Fuck,” she swears under her breath and you’re pretty sure it’s a good thing, pretty sure it’s actually the _best_ thing.

You’re eighteen years old. First week of college. She’s called Lauren and you’ve been all over her since the minute she wrapped her hand around your wrist inside the crowded student bar and pulled you onto the dance floor, rambling, “Quick – dance with me – I told that guy over there that you’re my girlfriend, because – oh, _fuck_ , there he is _—_ ”

You can’t for the life of you figure out where you found the composure because you’re eighteen years old and actually, really kind of awkward. But as soon as some tall, blonde guy appeared right behind her, something in the center of your chest made you wrap your arm around her waist and exclaim, apparently convincing enough, “There you are, baby. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

She stared at you for half a confused second, and then she pulled you so close that you could feel the heat off her body, flowing right into yours—

—and now you’re here; on the hood of a car, smoking weed with a girl you’ve only just met.

She smiles, leaning back a little and taking another hit of the joint. “You’re feeling it yet?”

You’re feeling a lot of things, but you’re pretty sure Lauren is talking about the weed. Still, you can only barely hold yourself back from telling her, _yeah, right between my legs_.

“I think so.”

She grins at you as though she knows exactly what you’re thinking about.

“Camila,” she says, then, drawing the syllables of your name out, her raspy voice shooting right down to the base of your spine. “What other things have you never done before, besides smoking weed?”

Her jeans are ripped and she’s got loosely-tied black boots and you’re on the hood of her car which looks like it’s pulled right out of one of those old action movies your dad is always trying to make you watch with him – and she can’t keep her eyes off you.

(The only reason you know this for sure is because you keep staring right back.)

Your throat feels impossibly dry.

“There’s a lot of things,” you mumble, which is probably not the coolest answer to give, but Lauren smiles and it’s not teasing at all – it’s really nice and confident and genuine and _fuck it,_ you can feel it everywhere.

“Yeah?” she says. “Tell me more.”

Maybe it’s the weed, maybe it’s her eyes, maybe it’s the whole damn _Danny Zuko_ vibe that she’s got going on with her leather jacket and her raspy voice and the freaking car – but for some reason the most socially inept part of you (and the part that is eighteen and awkward and nervous to be sitting so close to her), makes you hum out the ‘tell me more’ bit of _summer nights_.

She cracks up laughing and you blush hard.

“Damn,” she says. “You’re cute.”

You bite your lip, feeling a rush of embarrassment, and so, to prove that you are anything but _cute_ , you take the joint from between her fingers and flick your gaze up to hers. “Want me to shotgun you?”

Her eyes widen and her lips part a little. For a second she stares down at your mouth and then she says, “Yeah, give it to me.”

It sends a tornado racing in your chest.

You shift forward, trying to get closer to her, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend like this is something you’ve done plenty of times before. She knows you haven’t, though. You try not to shiver when she looks you right in the eyes and says, “Inhale slowly. Keep the smoke in your mouth. Then press your lips to mine and blow it over.”

“I know,” you say and her smile curls because she _knows_ you don’t. 

You roll your eyes and bring the blunt up to your lips, before you can back out. She’s got very light summer freckles on the bridge of her nose, you notice, right as you inhale and Lauren mumbles, “Show me, then.”

It feels like your senses sharpen and your entire world shifts – and then, there’s the green of Lauren’s eyes and the taste of her lips and you open your mouth and blow the smoke out, while her hand curls in your hair as she inhales deeply.

_Fucking hell._

It lasts one heartbeat, two heartbeats. Lauren’s exhale fills the air between you, as she pulls on the back of your neck, and then your mouth is back on hers and she kisses you – mind-numbing heat and your pulse in your throat and her tongue making you—

She pulls back after a moment and hums. “You’re good at it.”

You feel hot and dizzy on a million different things as you jokingly breathe out, “Well, I _am_ your girlfriend.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you realize she wasn’t talking about the kissing, but Lauren is even quicker because she whispers against your lips, “I meant the shotgun, babe.” Your heart stutters hard at the word. “ _This_ , on the other hand…” She licks the tip of her tongue over your bottom lip, making your breath hitch. “This… you’re _fucking_ good at.”

There’s a second in which you feel nothing but the vibration of her voice, and then she kisses you again and everything becomes her lips and her tongue and the way she softly moans into your mouth—

You shift forward, pulling harder, wanting _more_.

Lauren slides right off the hood of the car, breaking the kiss for a moment. Your eyes snap open just to catch the red of her lips before she tugs your hips harshly forward and presses herself right between your legs, kissing you again.

You’re eighteen years old, first week of college – and here you are, high on weed, for the first time in your life. High on _her,_ on the way her hands slide a little under the hem of your shirt and the way she shifts her leg right between yours and the way she’s making your head spin even though you’ve only known her for a night, for nothing but a night.

“Camila…” Lauren breathes against your lips.

You can’t get over the way your name sounds on her lips.

“Lauren.”

She leans back and her eyes are a little hazy as she tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and mumbles, “The universe.”

It’s so soft that you almost don’t hear it. “What?”

She brushes the words against your mouth. “The whole universe is at the edge of our breaths.”

Your eyes fall shut and you know it’s the weed and you know it’s crazy, but you feel it. You feel it too – exactly _that_ , just as she says it.

“It’s ready for us,” you whisper. “It’s ready for us to begin.”

She laughs and says, “You’re high.”

You smile and nod and then you kiss her again, and you’re only eighteen but there’s a shift in your night, in your life, in the universe – and this is it. You’re high and Lauren is high, but it hits you like a wave and you know that this is _it._

Right at the edge of your breaths.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:
> 
> How was that? I know it's a little short, but that's just because it's the beginning. I'm really excited about working on this story, but I will most likely keep my main focus on 'a sum of small things' and 'right there in the details' for the moment, so updates on this one may be a little slow... Just so you know.  
> I hope you all liked it. Let me know your thoughts!  
> Have a lovely day! :)
> 
> -Blake


End file.
